Scrooge hated Christmas. One winter's night, Scrooge was peacefully lying in bed. But in fact, he was far from peaceful. As he lay there, he was tortured by the cruel thoughts churning in his mind. A monster, leaping out of a present. A sharp piece of holly which turned into a deadly, glinting, silver knife. The berry at the end of it, which turned out to be poisonous and end people's lives. And a happy child, with an eye bulging out of its sockets with delight. An eye that turned into a monster's eye, a murderer's eye, a ghost's eye...